After his day at the hospital, Franky took to decorating his room for the end to a very relaxing night. He never really had a bedframe, so his twin-sized mattress was on the floor in the corner, unsheeted and with a single dingy blanket strewn across. His childish wardrobe was more filled with knick-knacks and paper than it was with clothes, and his closet only had a few tops hung up with the rest of the space being taken up with boxes. Aside from a lamp with no table, there was no other furniture, so Franky took pride in filling the blank beige walls and plain carpet with all of his favorite things. They were the only things he was interested in as a child that he kept with him all his life--dolls, drawings, toys. When you could spend your allowance on anything, why spend it on bedding or clothes?

And so a clown statue the height of a toddler stood watch in the corner, staring right at Franky's bed where he would eventually sleep. Brightly-clad baby dolls were hung from the ceiling by strings, spinning from the little air flow the room had. Paintings of dark figures, viscera, and screaming men were hastily taped to the walls. Franky's favorite porcelain dolls sat atop his dresser, some of which moved sometimes, but not always. He placed his banjo leaning against the wall right next to his bed, his sketchbooks, ink pens, and charcoal on the floor for him to use when he wanted. He liked the feeling of being watched, especially by (usually) unseeing eyes.

Dick was in the living room, watching outside the window for any demons that may pass. He was wondering how many demons exactly were released that week, and what they looked like--he hoped they weren’t as tall, horrifying, and weirdly buff like Satan was. But it got boring after his third hour of an occasional passing car or blown plastic bag, so he turned the TV on. It was the only light in the room, besides the dim street-lamps outside, so when the phone started ringing and a breaking Viktor came running to answer, Dick jumped up like a cat.

Viktor had tripped over his own legs, which were ripping at the seams, and his hand fell from his wrist as it hit the floor. “Really, Vik?” Dick said once he saw it was him. Viktor’s hand scurried along the floor like a tarantula to reach the phone. 

“Sorry, Dick! I was just…you know, trying to fix myself, and I knew you were super busy so I wanted to get the phone but I guess I didn’t tie the knots tight enough…”

Viktor’s hand crawled up the couch to hand the phone to Dick. He held it between his head and shoulder as Viktor came onto the couch. “Hey,” Dick said. Ted’s voice came wailing from the other end.

“Dick, I’m so glad you answered. There’s a demon going around town crying like a baby. It has three eyes and it’s leaking blood everywhere. Won’t you be a dear and kill it for me?” he said. Dick paused, leaving the needle stuck in Viktor’s skin. 

“Why’d you call me?” he asked.

“You don’t think you can do it?”

Dick continued sewing Viktor’s hand back onto his arm. “No, no, I can. But…I didn’t think I would be your first choice. I mean, I’ve never killed anyone before…or anything, except for fruit flies and mosquitos…and a mouse once now that I think about it…I-I used to kill spiders for my sister even though I was scared of them too--”

“I just thought you should have this opportunity, to start your…career, if you will. I trust you to find it and get rid of it tonight. Will you?”

“Of course. You won’t hear any babies after this, let me tell you.”

“I knew you would. Be careful, okay? I’ll see you soon, honey.”

“Yeah…”

Dick brushed his hand on his face as if to rub the blush off of it. Viktor helped Dick cut the thread from his skin once he was done sewing. “Who was that?” Viktor asked.

“Ted. He told me he saw some demon that…screamed like a baby, or something, and he wants me to kill it,” Dick replied. 

“Oh…but you’re gonna stay home, right?”

Dick raised his eyebrows.

“...Right?”

“Well, of course I have to do it, Vik. Ted ordered me to,” Dick said as he started a new thread on Viktor’s knee. Viktor crossed his arms, rolling his eyes to the ceiling as he grumbled to himself.

“Why’s it his decision? You and Franky spent three nights in his cult and you’re already obsessed with him,” Viktor said. 

“It’s what you do when you join a cult. He leads, and we follow. That’s…that’s literally the entire point of a cult.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have joined if you wanted to continue having free will.”

Dick tightened the stitch attaching Viktor’s calf to his thigh. Viktor didn’t feel the pain, but he knew what Dick was trying to do, so he lowered his eyebrows and frowned at him. Dick didn’t seem to notice, or care.

“You didn’t have to join, sweetheart. You don’t have to come either,” Dick said.

“Well, what other choice do I have? Stay at home alone in the dark only to clean the blood off of you when you get back?”

“You do what you want, and I’ll do what I want. Stitch yourself up, why don’t you?.”

Dick dropped the needle as he stood up, going to the door to get his boots on. Viktor’s expression softened, looking between the work done on his leg and the disappearing opportunity ahead of him. He stood up too, stumbling for a moment before he steadied himself to get his sneakers on next to his roommate. The needle dangled by the thread from his knee, his baggy jeans still rolled up over it. In the middle of tying his bootlaces, Dick paused to roll Viktor’s jeans back down to his ankles. 

“Your fly’s down too,” Dick said. Viktor fixed it, disgruntled, after he was done tying his sneakers.